


Terrible Things

by Savvylicious



Category: Crisis Core: Final Fantasy VII, Final Fantasy 7, Final Fantasy VII
Genre: All I ever write is sad, Gen, So much... sad...
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-17
Updated: 2017-10-17
Packaged: 2019-01-18 12:43:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,375
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12388326
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Savvylicious/pseuds/Savvylicious
Summary: The Turks deal with the aftermath of the Crisis Core, and Reno learns that it's especially hard to lose a friend.





	1. Chapter 1

_I want them alive, you hear me?_

Whenever Tseng issued an order, it was meant to be followed. There were no exceptions, no excuses, no room for failure.

_You’re going to save Zack’s life._

Because he knew that his Turks wouldn’t fail him. That whenever he couldn’t do something personally, he knew he could count on his subordinates for results, no matter how great the cost would be.

However, he was well aware of complications.

For instance, poor judgement from someone ignoring the system in favor of following the feelings from her heart and not her head. An entire army dispatched to eliminate a target before the Turk approach could fully take effect. An unnecessary martyr.

An unnecessary martyr that happened to have been an innocent man.

Just a simple man, who wore his feelings on his sleeves. A man that had a smile and a laugh for everyone he saw. A man that enjoyed stuffing his cheeks with marshmallows, and flicking paper footballs at his friends should they ever turn their back to him. A man that lived for brightening everyone’s day and radiated a warm, wholesome energy to anyone near enough to feel it. A man that had eyes like the ocean at dusk, the kind that were nearly impossible not to stare at. A man with the gift of inhumane strength but somehow remained so very gentle. A man with selfless dreams and ambitions, the kind that were good, and so heartwarmingly pure. A man that Tseng had been glad to count amoung the rare people he actually considered a friend.

A man that didn’t deserve to be dragged back into this pit of monsters like nothing more than a bag of trash.

Reno and Rude were at his side the moment Tseng took his next, forced, breath. They watched without a word as four lower class SOLDIERS struggled with the task of pushing Zack’s lifeless body unto a stretcher, remaining silent and moving to trail after the troop as they made their way inside.

It was deathly quiet, and as soon as they could without showing too much panic, the SOLIDERs set down their burden with a haste, jostling Zack’s prone form a tad, before scurrying out to report their shared findings with the Turks. No doubt Hojo would soon come through, brandishing all sorts of horrors, housing dark thoughts and an insatiable rage. Reno was the first of them to speak.

“Goddamn…”

He mumbled, shoving his hands deep into his pockets.

“Jackass got himself shot’ta pieces.”

Rude hummed his agreement and Tseng felt an unwanted tug at the bottom of his heart. Reno crouched low with a frown, pulling his eyebrows down into a narrow squint.

“The hell is he even smilin’ for?? So dense he didn’even know he was dyin’?”

Understandable. Reno had been kind of fond of Fair himself, underneath all the territorial remarks and mean pranks. Honestly, there wasn’t a person out there who hadn’t liked Zack in some way.

“What kinda guy dies smilin’ anyhow? Who does he think he is?”

Tseng waited a moment more, then bent into a kneel, reaching into his coat for a handkerchief. Rude offered him a waterbottle, which he took without a word, and uncapped the top. After wetting the cloth, he turned to Reno, whom he knew still had a lot of growing up to do.

“A man that dies with a smile on his face is a man who does not fear the end, Reno.” He turned Zack’s face away from them, bringing the kerchief to the fallen SOLDIER’s brow. He began to gently rub away the blood and mud.

The redhead didn’t seem to be satisfied with the answer, or with the current situation at all really, but had enough sense to shut his mouth and move away before he got into trouble. Reno stood and stalked into the room next door, where a faint rhythmic, thudding began. Rude remained where he was, idle for a moment, before Tseng waved him off to make sure Reno didn’t damage anything too expensive in his rage. That left him alone.

He worked in silence, functioning on autopilot as he cleaned Zack’s cheek.

Really, there wasn’t a reason to be doing this. He’d only started it so there had been an explanation for him moving to crouch at Reno’s side and attempt to console him. Now that Reno had left the room, surely he should stop?

He continued regardless, rubbing away until the gory mess had been cleaned, and it was a tad easier to gaze at the body. Tseng covered the bullet wound on Zack’s head with the soiled cloth, then mentally prepared himself to stand.

Instead he remained as he was, his dark gaze intensifying. Turning the body’s head slightly, he wondered if the skin was still pliable enough to move. He pulled at a cheek, then satisfied it hadn’t stiffened all the way, he changed Zack’s pained smile into an expression of blissful sleep.

Tseng’s fingertips lingered, and he wasn’t sure why.

As a Turk, it was in one’s training to remain as passive as possible. You were given an order, and you followed it. It didn’t matter what it was, where it was, who you were saving, or leaving to die. One’s first and only priority was in the primary objective. This man, while his friend, had threatened the system, the delicate hierarchy of things here at ShinRa. He was a threat, and threats were always eliminated.

So why couldn’t such logic apply now? His mind certainly accepted this without a fuss.

He traced the groove of Zack’s scar idly, recalling feeling this same, uncomfortable squeezing the day Zack had gotten this.

Tseng knew Angeal had been a good man, and didn’t deserve to come to the end that he did, but hadn’t been too bothered by his passing. It was Zack’s own reaction that had perturbed him.

SOLDIERS had roughly the same endurance training as Turks, so seeing the other teen weep in front of him openly had mostly been a disdainful shock, but very distressing. He’d told Veld about the odd discomfort he had upon seeing Zack cry, and wondered why his Turk training hadn’t conditioned him of sympathetic feeling as it had been designed to. Veld told him that one could repress the feelings, but eventually they would come out.

He supposed right now was one such instance.

Gingerly, he took his hand away and brushed Zack’s hair back, exhaling a long, shaky sigh.

“I’m sorry…. I’m sorry that you died. I didn’t want you to… and neither did ShinRa. If you had just come when Cissnei…”

Tseng swallowed, thinking it would help fight the surge of guilt as well.

“No… Forget I said that. A Turk always fesses up to his mistakes.”

His voice dropped to a lower murmur, and Tseng brushed back Zack’s last strand of wayward hair. “It’s my fault you died Zack, and I am so sorry…”

He wanted to tell Zack about Aeris’ letters, how he kept and memorized the contents of every singe one, should something come up. He wanted to relay that Cloud still hadn’t been apprehended, or that Genesis hadn’t really died. That there might still be hope for Sephiroth yet. Or how Kunsel had vanished off of ShinRa’s radar. Cissnei had yet to share her true name, and Reno was still waiting for those drinks.

Nothing he said, or did was relevant anymore.

Because Zack was dead, and it was his fault.

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

Tseng quickly stood as the door opened, his fingers clenching into fists when he saw who it was that had entered.

Professor Hojo stood in the doorway for a moment, the light behind him illuminating him in an almost angelic manner. Though, most everyone knew that he was far from such an adjective. He surveyed the room before him with his usual disdainful stare, pushing up his glasses as he stepped closer.

Tseng hovered near Zack’s body, in a manner that could be seen as protective, but Hojo payed him no heed. The aging scientist took deft steps around him, and peered down at the body that lay at their feet.

“I thought I told you  _Turks,_  that I wanted the specimen alive.”

 

"Complications arose. Not everyone got the memo.”

Hojo sneered, jabbing the side of Zack’s head lightly with his shoe, “Incompetent fools. What do they expect me to be able to accomplish with this thing? More holes in it then bloody swiss cheese.”

Tseng clenched his teeth in a pained silence, his nails digging into his palms with enough strain to break skin.

“Much harder to kill, these First Classes.” Hojo brought is gaze up to Tseng, a lazy smirk pulling at his lips. “So many bullets in this one… And you know something boy, it’s rather pathetic. You Turks are supposedly trained so much more thoroughly, and yet it only takes one shot to bring you down.”

A darker anger stirred in the pit of his stomach, but Tseng pushed it down expertly. Hojo was baiting him, and he knew that Hojo knew he knew he was doing such as well. However, Tseng didn’t want to be the next Turk that went missing when near the professor, so he kept quiet.

“Have some men bring the remains to my personal lab.”

“Yessir.”

“Immediately,” Hojo insisted, turning back towards the door, “No dallying. I also want you to collect all of his files into a disk and give it to me, then erase the rest of the information permanently.”

Tseng narrowed his eyes, lips tightening in fury. ”What of his family?”

Hojo paused in his walk, sighing a low hum as he contemplated his answer. ”Tell them he died fighting for the glory of ShinRa. Or rather- fighting THE glory!” His laughter was cold, and cruel, and his morbid amusement held until he had Fair’s body lying flat on one of his lab tables.

It hadn’t been too long ago since their last interaction, just a few days short of a year. But Hojo would not deny the boy credit. Never had there ever been a time where one of his specimens had succeeded in escaping him, or the lab. He usually grew bored of them, or the subjects fell into extended narcoleptic fits and became too unstable to work on anymore.

Not Zackariah Fair, however.

His stamina and resistance had been remarkable, his strength and healing abilities simply fascinating. How his blood was completely immune to degradation and Jenova Cells. But what Hojo had liked most about him, was the fact that Zack had lasted him  _four years_. Must have been the abilities of First Class that’d allowed his body to withstand such scientific torture.

Hojo bent over him, pushing down his glasses in order to get a closer look.

_Definitely_ _over ten bullets, burning ranging from mild to severe, appears to have been in fair health before death. Estimated time of death, late last night…_

He scoffed, annoyed at the findings, and straightened once more. He couldn’t do much with this mutilated corpse, and since he knew Zack was immune to Jenova cells, it wouldn’t do any good to waste any in an attempt to resuscitate him.

Hojo was in dire need of Zack’s blood however, as he had a hypothesis he itched to test. It just wouldn’t do to have dead cells.

_If Fair’s blood rejects Jenova cells, which causes the degradation… Perhaps it could work as an antibody of sorts. If only I knew what genetic coding was responsible for such a phenomena…_

He drew a syringe from his coat and drew aside one of Zack’s stiffening arms, jabbing the needle into cold flesh and drawing out an entire vial’s worth of the dead man’s blood. He crossed the lab until he came to an observation room, where one of his many other projects lounged, heavily sedated. Pressing the intercom to speak, he roused the fiery redhead from his drugged sleep.

“Rhapsodoss, I have news for you.”

Genesis looked disgusted, but was far too gone to do more than stare heatedly at himself reflected in the one sided mirror.

“Zack Fair is dead.”

**********

_Zack Fair is dead._

He swallowed, throat suddenly very constricted.

Not Angeal’s beloved pup… The eager-to-please boy that always wore a  bright smile…

Genesis’ glare let up in the mirror, and when he focused on himself, he was surprised to see how forlorn he looked. So tiny, so small. Pathetic and weak. Nothing like the hero from the fable he so loved.

No… The hero had been Zack.

The friend that had been betrayed was Sephiroth.

The friend that had died had been Angeal.

And in the end…. He was… He was the villain.

He pulled on his mask, an uncaring sneer, and countered with, “Is that so, Professor?”

“Pleased are we?”

“Very much so. Now you have nothing to go on, and your half thought out experiments will cease. Though, you’re known for being awful at finishing what you start.”

Genesis heard the scuff of the intercom, and he allowed himself to be pleased with upsetting Hojo for the moment. He lay his head against the wall and stared up at the ceiling. With Zack gone, he thought he might finally be content. He started all of this, and his closest friends and beloved people had been the ones to pay the price. Now that they were free, he would suffer on his own.   
  
He thought it was a just punishment indeed.  
  
Exhausted now, the former general let his eyes drift shut, willing the blinding white of his cell fade and doing his best to conjure up a memory or dream he could fall asleep to. One of him and Angeal, sitting quietly under one of the apple trees in his family's orchard. As the sun set behind them, Sephiroth silently joined them, silver hair billowing gently in the soft evening breeze. A soft crunch in the grass next to Angeal told Genesis that Zack had joined them as well. No words were spoken, but the three of them finally seemed at peace, and for that he was grateful.  
  
He didn't care if Hojo saw the tear that slipped down his cheek.


End file.
